


we were in screaming colours

by alltheworldsinmyhead



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Multi, artist!Clarke, canon universe - after s2, cop!bellamy, just throw ever single au here, writer!bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheworldsinmyhead/pseuds/alltheworldsinmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of the 100 drabbles, mostly bellarke</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. all i want for christmas is you

**Author's Note:**

> '' bellamy and clarke confessing their feelings during christmas'' prompt with a little twist ( it's hardly a christmas time, since it's may, but who cares). hope you'll enjoy :)

Clarke is the one to push the button.

She insist it should be Raven, it totally should be Raven; but her protests die out in the noise that her friends are making, rather shouting than saying how much she deserves this and _God, Clarke, can you just shut up and accept the honor?_ ( she's quite sure it's Jasper's line) (or maybe Raven's)

 

So she shuts up and does it. From the platform she's standing on she can see it all; cottages lightening up one after another, as the wave of pure solar power turned electricity under the skilled hands of the youngest mechanic on Ark, spreads around their village until it reaches its final destination.  Big Christmas tree brought there by the whole Bellamy's crew two weeks ago lights up and Clarke doesn't even try to stop the smile from creeping on her face as people cheer loudly. She was  arguing since forever that it's a pointless thing to waste their precious electricity resources for this kind of thing. But, surprisingly, Bellamy wanted it so bad, that she eventually gave up.

( she always does.

But he kinda does it too, so she's totally okay with it).

 

\- I still think all of this is unnecessary. - she says later, taking a sip of Monty's special Christmas moonshine from her mug and looking around.

People are dancing and singing, sitting around the tree, all merrily happy ( she suspects it has more in common with the alcohol than with the electricity though). Bellamy smirks, leaning down to take the mug from her hands and casually drinking from it ( _filthy mug-stealer_ , it's her special one and he know it well, faded ''princess'' printed on it's surface hundred years ago and Bellamy's grin when they found it in an abandont shopping mall, warmth of his hand as he put it in hers)

\- You think everything funny is a waste of time and energy, Clarke.- he says, chuckling as she gasps and presses one hand to her heart.

\- How dare you. I can be fun. You know I can be fun!

Bellamy blinks a couple of times and then he smiles; slowly, until his whole face is glowed by the power of this smile.

She hates it.

(She wants it photographed.)

She can't stand this sight.

(She wants it framed and in a thousand copies to carry around and put on the pillow next to her in her way too-empty bed.)

\- Yeah, actually I do.

Then she realizes what she has just said ( his hands on her tights, bodies pressed to each other, snow and wind humming on the outside) and she blushes furiously. It was two weeks ago and she was lonely and maybe he was a bit lonely too and neither of them was exactly sober and she doesn't regret it- she couldn't, she couldn't regret anything that feels so good, so right, she couldn't regret falling asleep by his side, their chests raising up and falling down in the same, steady rhythm, his warm body wrapped around her, first time since forever a whole night without nightmares. What she does regret, it's how it changed the dynamics between them. How suddenly everything which used to be so easy and natural started being awkward. The thing is, she was trying desperately to avoid this conversation, she was trying really, really hard not to think about it, not to speak about it and especially not with him, not, when her head is one big goddamn mess. But she kind of brought the topic back unintentionally, so she guesses she just has togo on with it.

\- Bellamy, about that night - she starts, her voice a bit shaky and hates herself for being so weird around him lately. It has never been this way before. Everything between them was spontaneous, natural , didn't even require thinking. One fucking night ( best night of her life, if she has to be honest) and there they are, both blushed and unable to look into each other's eyes. She tries to find right words and she can see he's trying too, but it seems they are both speechless for a moment, so she sighs and looks around. Waste of resources- hell yeah, but hell, if it's not beautiful. The lights and the snow and stars and the sea and everything glowing and gleaming, gentle light all around them, the voices of their people from their right side.

 _We made this_ \- this thought strikes Clarke unexpected, puts her off-balance.- _You and me. We made this_. Two years on this stupid planet, endless lives lost, the sea of blood spilled and she is still alive, so is he and they made it to the ocean and they built themselves home.

She actually manages to look up at Bellamy, her eyes still locked on the dark sea, delicate snowflakes in his black hair and on his thick eyelashes. Sometimes she thinks she knows this face better than she knows her own. Sometimes she knows it for sure. We made this. Together.

She reaches out and takes his hand in hers. It's not that they weren't heading here since the very beginning, is it? -

Are we together?- she asks calmly, her voice no longer shaking but stern, solid, like the ground under their feet, like the bound they share and which is strong and stronger with every passing minute and with every hard decision they have to make together. He turns his head around to look at her and he smiles.

\- Aren't we always together, Princess?- and it could be _yes_ but it's so much more. He leans down to kiss her cheek and when they fireworks ( damn Jasper and Raven and damn the precious resources) she kisses his lips because hell yes, they made it. And yes, when she hears Octavia and Monty cheering and somebody is yelling  _Fuck, finally!_ and Bellamy wraps his arms around her, yes, yes they were heading here since the very beginning.

\- Merry Christmas, Clarke.- he whispers, with his lips still on hers.

Maybe these stupid lights aren't a total waste of resources after all


	2. don't be afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bellamy is such a dumbass sometimes, really.

She is sitting in the warm water, arms wrapped around her knees and he is knelling on the cold tiles near the bathtub, gently pouring the water on her back and pressing small kisses along the line of her shoulder. When exactly did she became so thin? She is still shaking a bit, her nails digging in the flesh of her legs, her teeth deep in her lower lip.        

\- Clarke, can you tell me what happened? Please, just tell me what happened.- he is trying hard not to yell at her, not to grab her arms and shake the answers out of her, because that’s what you do, when you come back home from work and you find your fiancée in a nearly catatonic state, sitting on the balcony in the middle of the coldest February of the decade, wearing only your t-shirt and leggings, her lips and fingers already a bit blue. That’s exactly what you do, when you find her like that; you shake the answers out of her.

But he can’t do that, so he’s trying to be gentle, to be calm, because it’s Clarke and she’s still trembling and there are still trails of frozen tears on her unhealthy red cheeks. He wonders if it’s her mother- again, because only Abby can send Clarke so terribly over the edge. If it is Abby, if she called or showed up on the doorsteps and messed in her head to the point that she nearly froze herself to death ( for fuck’s sake) he is so booking tickets to Atlanta and he is so ending it all, once and for good.

\- I thought you were dead.

Clarke’s voice echoes in the bathroom, circling around and going back over and over again. She sounds hollow; she sounds haunted. Bellamy doesn’t think he has ever heard her sounding in this way. It scares the shit of him; actually, it distracts him so much, that he needs extra couple of seconds to acknowledge what she actually said.

\- What- What do you mean, Clarke?

She takes a few deeper breaths, apparently trying to calm herself a bit, before she raises her face from her knees and faces him.

\- In the news. The shooting. It was your patrol and you weren’t answering you phone, I called you and you wouldn’t answer because you left your phone here, and I called the station but there was such a mess here they couldn’t tell me anything and they were late and I thought-

He kisses her, before she can finish, because he knows, oh damn, the shooting, of course. It must’ve been in the news, why he didn’t think about it?

\- I switched teams just for today, I was so dam lucky I wasn’t there, Clarke, I wasn’t even close to this.

 Why the hell didn’t he call her, didn’t call Octavia, let everyone know he was safe? He could’ve take Miller’s phone, office phone, but he didn’t do it, he just wasn’t thinking

She reads his minds, as always.

\- Why didn’t you call me?- this time her voice is high-pitched, burning anger underneath it.- I was going out of my mind here. Literally. Bellamy, you can’t do this to me!

She is screaming at him and he wants to laugh, because it’s the Clarke he knows and loves, not the hollow creature he has found leaning on the wall like a broken doll. She looks at him, demanding answers. And he would gladly give them to her, but he doesn’t know how to put it out in words. He shrugs and decides to just tell it in the most simple way.

- I guess I’m just not used to being cared of.

She sends him a deadly glare, but then her eyes soften. She leans down and kisses his forehead, cupping his face with her small hands, the metal of her ring cold on his skin.

 - You ass.- she whispers, throwing her arms around his neck and leaving wet stains on the fabric of his uniform.- I love you. Of course I care about you.

They are not one of those couples who casually throw around iloveyou-s until those words lose its meaning, so he knows how terrified she must’ve been.

\- Yeah, I love you too. – he buries his face in her wet hair, tracing circles with his hand on her back and trying to imagine how he would feel if he thought she was dead. It’s hard, because she’s an artist a nd artists don’t exactly have a high-risk job, but he tries to imagine her kissing him goodbye every night and going out to work in the most dangerous district in the city, her hand on the gun, waving her goodbye and the turning the tv up and hearing about the shooting and casualties and then calling her and hearing nothing but:’’ _Hi, it’s Clarke, I’m probably busy at the moment, leave a message please, I’ll call you back._ ’’ He hugs her tighter, almost falling into the bathtub himself. God.

\- I’m sorry.- he mummers and yeah, he really is.- But please, don’t do this again, I was scared. She sniffs and he realizes she must’ve been crying quietly for a moment of so.

\- Yeah, and I was terrified. Don’t do it too. Please, Bellamy. I- I can’t lose you too.

He thinks about the cemetary they will probably visit soon and about that time in the hospital when he had to physically restrain Raven not to claw Clarke’s eyes out and about her haunted face when she said ‘’All men that love me die. ‘’ and he couldn’t say ‘’No, they don’t’’, so he said ‘’I’m alive’’ instead and her eyes lightened up like a Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.

(He never does it again.)


End file.
